Worth It
by This Girl Maybe
Summary: He was definitely sure it was worth it. [Chapter 4 posted]
1. Worth It

Title: Worth It

Rating: PG

Pairing: S/J

Author Notes: This is my first fic for years so be gentle. I've missed writing for the fandom so thought I would give it another go!

There were never any angry fireworks or confrontations.

He had always imagined that there might have been. Drama and repression had been rather present during their joint past.

Maybe some tears or angst or even some latent guilt somewhere within him. Within them both.

But instead, there is just...Them.

It isn't dramatic or sudden and there's certainly no feeling like he is straying into dangerous territory.

He retired and they fell into their relationship, almost as if by accident. Yet both of them knew that this was no accident. Theirs was no relationship of convenience – they both knew that they wanted this more than pretty much anything. He knew that of himself at least. He would rather one day of her than his favourite team win the Stanley Cup. Every. Single. Year.

She stood on the decking of his porch, looking over the garden that he now had copious time to tend to. The slight cool breeze in the air drifted through the evergreen trees at the bottom of the yard, their branches waving slightly.

She cut an elegant figure, even in one of his baggy shirts and faded boxer shorts; the only attire available. The sunlight ebbed away slowly and he knew there was a bottle of ice cold beer clutched in her right hand.

And he just watched her from the porch door.

"I know you're there," Her voice surfaced over the quiet. She didn't turn round but merely continued to look over the garden and took a lazy sip from the beer bottle

There was a smile on his face, his usual wry smirk graced his features, "They don't hand out doctorates for nothing then," He replied, his ever present sarcasm unable to be restrained. He knew that she would roll her eyes at the retort. He liked to make her do that; it usually meant that she found him endearing. He liked that a lot.

She slowly turned round, leaning her back against the wooden railing as she faced him. She had no make up on - he could tell. She looked more beautiful, more herself without it. Her slightly grown, now bob-length blonde hair was vaguely scruffy, owing to the lazy Saturday that they had spent together, "I hope you don't mind," She lifted the bottle slightly, "There's still a six pack left..." She trailed off her sentence, her voice quietening.

"No worries," He replied. She could pretty much do anything and he would still be there, amazed at how a woman so goddamn amazing would choose to be with him, of all people, "You okay?"

He ventured the question almost hesitantly. Their month-old relationship was burgeoning but he found himself wary of her occasional silence, as though she was reconsidering their intimacy, despite the ease at which it came.

She sighed, looking down at her bottle, swirling the amber contents.

All he can do is think how beautiful she looks standing in his old white shirt and shorts, complete with ruffled hair and biting her lip.

"You know I love you, right?" She said it almost nervously, her piercing blue eyes looked into his and for a moment, he couldn't speak. Which was useful because the infamous Carter torrent of words erupted with force, "Because I do, you know. I really do," The words came at him almost without a breath. She broke for a moment and the second's worth of silence was too much for her, "I don't want you think I'm here because..I don't know because..because this is just fun to me. Or, or.. that I'm settling for this." She stops again with a sigh, "I love you Jack. I want you, this, us."

He walked towards her and her stance relaxed further. She looked down at her toes, almost girlishly although never a word he usually associated with her, "I guess I can't believe I'm happy." She said finally as he stood next to her, leaning against the railing along side her casual form, "Things like this don't usually happen to me."

"What, standing on a back porch with an old man?" He joked and she smiled at him slyly, that side smile he loved so much. Like everything else.

"Don't be obtuse," He knew she wanted to roll her eyes again.

"Sorry, sorry," He apologised, nudging her shoulder. He sighed as he turned around to face the garden and she followed him, both their gazes admiring the view. There was a moment of silence, uninterrupted as he listened to the last of the birds tweeting in the dusk, "I know what you mean Carter." He looked at her side profile, watched her and couldn't believe she was his. "All the years were worth it. For this." His hand snaked into hers, holding it as though it were the most natural thing in the world. His face was grave as he thought of all they had endured; the loss, the pain, the almost decade long denial. "I'm not letting you go."

She leant her head against his shoulder, "Me neither."

They stood in silence.

"I love you Carter."

She squeezed his hand in response.

Definitely worth it.


	2. The One With The Revelation

**Part Two: **The One With The Revelation

**Author Notes: **I wasn't intending for part two for this fic but I had a few positive reviews & thought I might add to it. So, here you go. Once again, I'm easing myself back into SG-1 fic writing so gentleness is appreciated. Part Three may surface soon. Or not.

Sometimes Sam couldn't believe how much Cassie had changed.

Her attitude, her whole personality had evolved so far from the shy, scared little girl that they had discovered on a planet light years away from the one that she now called home. She had such an air of confidence that she seemed to be altogether a different person.

And then at other times, Cassie seemed exactly like the ten year old version of herself. The same doleful eyes, the same playful demeanour and the same natural relationship between them flourished as ever.

Sam watched from the slightly uncomfortable seat in the mid-town coffee house as Cassie lined up along the counter. She watched Cassie tapping her foot as she fiddled with her new phone, biting her lip in thought and tapping on the screen incessantly. Probably messaging one of her well meaning but slightly scatty college housemates – it seemed that they had to be in constant communication. Sam looked over Cassie now she had the opportunity without the young woman feeling self conscious of the attention; her hair had grown so long ("You sound just like Jack y'know") and her clothes reminded Sam of the painfully fashionable models in the pages of the magazines Sam browsed but never bought. Underneath though, Sam could still see her vulnerability and her occasional uncertainty about the world she lived in. She could still be that little Cassie inside that Sam remembered.

Sam's gaze drifted as she waited for Cassie's return to the table and she looked to outside where other patrons gathered on chairs round metallic tables, laughing and chatting. Cassie looked so like them as to be indistinguishable to someone that didn't know her. Sam felt a little swell of happiness that Cassie had become everything that Sam could have hoped for; just another college student (albeit in Sam's biased opinion, far more beautiful and intelligent) enjoying her adolescence and experiencing everything that she wanted. After all the trauma and sadness that Cassie had battled through, she was remarkably unaffected.

The coffee shop was adorned with festive decoration for the holiday season, although Sam wagered that it had probably been the case since mid-September. She could just hear the voice of an unknown singer murdering Jingle Bells over the hubbub of the shop. Fake snowflakes plastered the window and Sam felt a childish sense of excitement for Christmas this year. The first time in many years that she had even noticed it's approach.

Cassie finally approached their window table after several minutes, two differing Christmas themed cups in hand and she smiled as she handed Sam one, "Don't worry, it's normal coffee..." She pulled out the other chair at the table to sit down, "I know you hate these frappuchino things..." She shrugged off her jacket and laid it round the arms of the chair, "...despite how delicious they are."

"They're not coffee," Sam responded as she added some of the sugar on the table to the mug, stirring it slowly, "Though I'm surprised that you don't want some of the real stuff. I thought you had a big night last night..."

Cassie sighed as she placed her bag on the floor, a brown and beaten satchel that Sam was sure Cassie would insist wasn't battered but actually 'vintage'. "Not really..." Cassie reflected, "Just a few people over before we all left for the holidays."

"How was the drive?" Sam questioned, still worrying about her surrogate daughter travelling the distance between college and Colorado Springs.

"Long. Boring. Full of ridiculously bad drivers," Cassie grinned and Sam smiled in response, her fears being allayed somewhat; Cassie's driving was probably better than her own, "I dumped my stuff at yours before meeting you. Hope you don't mind" Sam shook her head and Cassie sipped her drink through the burgundy straw, settling back in her chair , "But there didn't seem to be much sign of life in there..." Cassie's sentence drifted, "Have you been working too much at base?"

Sam stopped midway through her sip of her own drink (rather inferior to her own Moroccan coffee at home, bought as a present from a certain someone) "Er, yeah, something like that."

Her face took on a quizzical look, "You okay?"

Sam nodded, trying to reassure her as Sam's brain desperately tried to think of a way to avoid that topic of conversation and how to seamlessly segue into another, "How's college?"

Cassie made a dramatic sigh, "It's pre-med so I'm constantly studying" Sam nodded understandingly, remembering her own heavy workload from college, "But it's all worth it in the end I guess." She ended with a smile, "Especially when I'm able to put Doctor in front of my name."

"Your mom would be proud," Sam's face saddened slightly, "You're doing so well."

Cassie nodded and it looked to Sam as though she were trying to restrain some tears. Cassie's watery gaze fell to the table and she mindlessly stirred her drink with the straw, "I still miss her every day. So much." Her voice was so quiet, so vulnerable that it almost broke Sam's heart.

"Me too."

There was a silence until Cassie suddenly sat up straighter in her seat and looked as though she were forcing a smile back on to her face, "She certainly wouldn't want me to start sobbing in the middle of a coffee shop, so how about we talk about you for once?" She grinned again slyly, "How's life with Colonel Carter these days? And I'm talking about the stuff you don't put in your emails..."

After a pause, Sam took a deep breath, "Well, there's something I have to tell you..." She trailed off, "Something important."

Cassie's eyes widened instantaneously, a panic stricken look forming across her face, "Are-you-okay? You're-alright-aren't-you?" The words seemed to fuse together as Cassie babbled, "You're-not-ill-are-you?-please-don't-say-you're-ill..."

Sam quickly jumped in with a response, a calming hand moved over the table and laid upon Cassie's which had balled into a anxious fist, "No, I'm fine. I'm not ill."

Cassie immediately began to relax, her face softened from the stressed expression she wore only a moment before, "Thank god..." Another sigh emanated from her lips and an almost apologetic smile formed, "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions like that." She curled her fingers round Sam's hand that still laid on her own, "It's just that Lucy's mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer a few weeks ago and I've been worrying about it ever since."

Sam felt a wash of guilt flood over her for causing Cassie such worry, even if it was momentary. "I promise I'm fine. Passed my medical last week with flying colours. Promise," Sam gave what she hoped was a reassuring grin and Cassie smiled back in appreciation.

After a moment's silence, Cassie spoke again, "So what's this thing you have to tell me?" She withdrew her hand from Sam's to take another sip of her drink. Sam watched as she tried to rid herself of the thought that her next words could alienate one of the people that she cared about most in the world.

"Well, er...I..." Sam stopped out of frustration, words failing her "...You know that Jack and I have always been good friends as well as colleagues..." Sam paused and Cassie murmured her agreement, "Well, since Jack retired, we've become closer..." She broke her sentence briefly, "...than friends."

Cassie's eyes narrowed in confusion, "Okayyy..."

Sam grimaced minutely. This was harder than she had imagined and wished that she had not dismissed Jack's idea of the pair of them telling Cassie together. The noise in the coffee house of the baristas, the chatter from the couple sitting on a table two seats away, the mellow music playing in the background; she could hear all of it and it deafened her. It shouldn't feel like this. We're. Not. Doing. Anything. Wrong. She repeated it like a mantra.

"Well, what I'm really trying to say...it's basically that...well, Jack and I...it's...er..." Sam stumbled over her words and felt irrationally like her fifteen-year-old self trying to tell her father that she was going steady with Andrew Wright from her physics class.

"Are you guys dating?" Cassie asked with a smirk.

Sam's eyes widened and felt what she was sure was a blush spread over her cheeks, "Well, I, er, well, I guess you could say that." Sam said eventually and watched and waited for a hint of a reaction in Cassie's face.

"At last," She giggled softly, "I wondered if this was ever going to happen."

Sam frowned, "Sorry?"

"I guessed you guys were into each other years ago," Cassie said nonchalantly as she swirled the last of her drink in the cup, "Mom said that there were 'adult reasons' why you guys weren't together. I eventually worked out that it was due to the Air Force rules or something."

"Janet told you that?" Sam replied with surprise evident in her voice. She searched her memory for an occasion (drunken night or otherwise) when she would have told her friend too much about her feelings towards her former commanding officer.

"Yeah. But Daniel and ... 'Murray'... " Cassie rolled her eyes at the alias, "...talked about it too."

"They did?" Sam's eyes widened even further. She knew that Daniel and Teal'c would have had their suspicions especially after certain...confessions...had been made. Had she really been that obvious? Her acting skills clearly needed honing.

"Mm-hm," Cassie added casually, "Not in a bad way," She added as an afterthought, "They were just...concerned as friends. They want you both to be happy," Cassie perked up in her seat, shrugged her shoulders and gave a smile, "Which you are. So everything is good."

A silence fell over them both, Cassie stared out of the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the busy shopping plaza, customers milling about on the mild winter day.

"I am happy. We both are." Sam added eventually, "I just want to make sure you are as well. You know how important you are to me. To both of us." Sam still felt pensive, worried about Cassie as though she were obliged to accept this development.

"Trust me, this is good. I hated thinking of you being apart. You both deserve more than that." Cassie said, "You've done a lot for this place. More than people will ever know." She stopped momentarily, "You've done a lot for me too. You always do."

"Thanks." Sam sipped the last of her coffee that had now started to cool to a point of being undrinkable, "Do you want to head off?"

"Sure," Cassie gathered her 'vintage' satche l("It's what us crazy kids call fashion Jack"), and rose from her chair, "So are you guys spending Christmas together or what?"

**End of Part Two**


	3. Deck The Halls

**Part Three**: Deck The Halls

**Author Notes**: Reviews are ridiculously welcome. I had the idea for this over the weekend and the words just spilled out.

Sam hadn't quite expected the decorative explosion that she encountered when she opened the door to Jack's house. Actually, she hadn't expected it at all.

She had always presumed that General Jack O'Neill (retired) celebrated the festive season in a sedate way, perhaps even shunning Christmas (like she had in the past when she and Mark had been uncomfortably estranged) She had imagined that he would reluctantly write out cards to distant relatives and put some lights in the window so he wouldn't appear akin to Scrooge. The Jack O'Neill of her imagination was not miserly, but instead was reflective. Not everyone wanted to celebrate a season that revolved mainly around children and family when all that conspired to do was cause painful reminiscence.

This, was..different. Really quite different.

"How do you like it then?" His voice sounded merry and the grin matched his tone. He wore his usual attire; a grey fitted jumper and some slacks that she had chosen for him. However, the Santa Claus hat atop his head certainly wasn't something she had any part in purchasing.

Sam dropped her utilitarian black laptop bag to the floor near the door, her glance absorbing the interiors of Jack's house. The Christmas tree was pride of place near the fire, decorated in a surprisingly co-ordinated theme of red and white with hints of silver. Red bows were tied to branches and candy canes hung from various stems of the fir. On top of the tree sat what look to be a hand crafted model of an Asgard; she guessed Thor.

"It's...festive." She smirked as her gaze drifted over the rest of the house; holly festooned photo frames, several garlands hung over the bookcases (filled with both her astrophysics textbooks and his NHL season yearbooks) paper chains decorated the door to the kitchen and she was pretty sure she saw fairy lights glimmering in the back yard.

He nodded with self-satisfaction, "That was my intention." His brow suddenly furrowed, "Do you think it's enough?"

Sam shook her shoes from her feet, pushing them to the wall alongside his loafers, and she internally uttered a sigh of relief; she has spent too long standing in her lab supervising her slightly hopeless new assistant, "Jack, it looks like Christmas threw up in here."

She automatically regretted her flippant remark when his face fell. "You don't like it." He stated as she came towards him, his eye losing the glimmer that had been present only a moment ago when she walked through the door.

_Dig yourself out of the hole. Dig yourself out of the hole._"No, no, I do," Sam nodded enthusiastically, shedding her coat and laying it on the couch where there was now a snowman covered blanket, "I just didn't think that you would be so...Christmassy."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all," Sam reflectively answered quickly and walked in front of him, moving to kiss him quickly on the lips and leaned back with a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I think it's sweet."

His eyes narrowed, "I'm not sure I want my girlfriend to think I'm sweet. It sounds like I'm eight."

_Girlfriend. Girlfriend._ Sam grinned in spite of herself. She was definitely not going to get tired of him referring to her like that. "I didn't mean it like that and you know it, smart ass."

A smirk appeared on his lips and she knew that she had managed to avert a minor catastrophe, "I just haven't celebrated Christmas like this for...years," She said and pondered, searching her brain for the last time that she had really enjoyed the season at all, "I guess since my mom died." She felt his arms wrap tighter around her waist.

"I know," His expression darkened slightly, "When...Charlie died..." Jack's gaze fell from her face as he recalled his late son, "It just didn't feel right. Being happy felt like a betrayal."

Sam stroked his neck and gently kissed him again, her lips providing answers that words never could. Perhaps it was slightly ironic that one of things that she wished she could change most in the world was for Charlie to still be alive, despite it's implications of his marriage to Sara.

"I hope you don't still feel like that," She added eventually as they parted, leaning her forehead onto his.

Jack slowly nodded, gesturing slightly to the expertly decorated tree as they parted. "All this just makes me feel like I'm human again," His fingers touched one of the plastic candy canes, a small smile crept onto his face, "Maybe I'm making up for past Christmases without you."

"Then go right ahead." Sam kissed him again, tugging on the fluffy white pompom at the end of the red triangular shaped hat, "I like it too," He raised his eyebrows dubiously, "Honestly. I do."

He finally seemed appeased and he kissed her again briefly and the familiar tingle spread through her body. She wondered if, or when, she would ever feel any different when she saw him grin in her direction as they cooked dinner together or felt him hold her hand as they cuddled, watching a documentary that he really had no interest in but endured only for her sake. As they moved their lips apart, she pulled back to look at him and smile as he spoke, "Cassie called."

"Oh?" Sam quirked an eyebrow. Cassie had appropriated Sam's house for herself in Sam's absence, usually inviting her old school friends to catch up and watch old Christmas films. It seemed Cassie more than relished having the whole space to herself. Sam was less than hopeful about what she would encounter once she returned after a month of a college student taking care of the place.

"She's coming over at one o'clock Christmas day, maybe later if she's 'still drunk' in the morning." He informed Sam rolling his eyes, "Apparently Christmas Eve is second only to New Year's."

Sam murmured her assent, "So I hear. What about Teal'c and Daniel?"

"Midday. Apparently Daniel wants to call some professor friend in the Middle East before he comes over and Teal'c is...well, being Teal'c and couldn't possibly come over before then."

Sam smiled, "Sounds good. You'll have lots of time to do the cooking then." She patted his chest and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

"Whaaat?" Jack drawled, surprise evident in his voice, "No, no, no, no. There will be no cooking from me. Decorations? Sure, why not? Cooking? Not unless you want food poisoning."

Sam turned to face him with a sly grin, edging back into the kitchen. "You're retired Jack. You have plenty of time to practice. What else having you got going on?"

He narrowed his eyes, "I have...lots to do. Lots of...things."

"Uh-huh," Sam threw him a knowing glance, one eyebrow quirked, "I'm getting a beer, do you want..." The lights flashed momentarily and the house suddenly flooded into darkness, "...one?"

"Okay," Jack's voice surfaced eventually through the black that now enveloped the house, "There _may_ be a blown fuse somewhere."

"Ya think?"

**End of Part Three**


	4. Goodwill to All Men

**Part Four: **Goodwill to All Men

**Author Notes: **Thanks again to all the positive reviews. It really means a lot; you've all prompted me to get back into writing fanfic. And I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it! Some of the technicalities here aren't quite accurate (forgive me!)

"So."

"So." Jack responded with a not quite innocent smirk on his face, sipping slowly from his bottle of beer. They were sat in front of the fire, bundled on his couch under the snowman blanket. Night had fallen many hours ago and whilst the temperature hadn't dropped inside the house, being encased inside the comforter felt an apt way to finish Christmas Day. Sam was curled with her legs underneath her, wine glass on the table beside the couch. Jack reclined next to her, the blanket draped over his knees and his arm around Sam's shoulder.

"Do you want your present yet?" She said eventually, sounding positively eager to give him the large box underneath the tree, one of only two remaining. The rest of the tree was surrounded with discarded festive wrapping paper from the variety of gifts exchanged earlier in the, rather hectic, day; Cassie had been her usual excitable self, Teal'c had been surprisingly merry, Daniel wore a festive jumper and drank too much mulled wine.

"Sure...though you didn't have to get me anything you know..." He trailed off as she moved from the couch, pulling off the blanket from her body. She brought out his present; a large square box wrapped in shiny blue paper, white glittery ribbon with a bow as the crowning glory.

"Of course I'm going to get you something Jack," She responded with a roll of her eyes, "That's what you're supposed to do. It's Christmas. And you bought me something..." She gestured to the last present under the tree, with a label bearing her name.

Jack held up his hands, "Okay, okay..." Sam presented the box to him on his lap, "Right, what have we got here then?" He muttered to himself as he attacked the blue wrapping paper from all angles, "Wow, you've wrapped this one pretty good."

He wasn't sure if he saw Sam blush or if it was just from the heat of the warm fire.

Slowly, he ripped the paper to reveal a less than elegant cardboard box. He looked up to meet Sam's eyes and she bit her lip, "It gets better. Honest."

He opened the box and in the relative dimness of the living room, he could see there was fabric inside the box so he reached in to bring it out. Unfolding what felt like white jersey material, he finally revealed the team colours of the Minnesota North Stars, his favourite childhood ice hockey team. The yellow and green was unmistakeable as he turned over the jersey to find a black signature pride of place in the centre of the shirt. He looked up at her and met her eyes with astonishment obvious in his own. She looked almost embarrassedly down at her lap where she sat, the blanket wrapped around her again, her blue eyes glistening.

"I hope it's right..." She trailed off before suddenly speaking again, "It's Leo Boivin's signature..."

"My favourite player..." Jack murmured as he turned over the jersey in his hands, almost unable to believe it was in his possession. His hand instinctively reached for hers over the blanket, "How did you know?" He uttered his words quietly, the kindness of her gesture preventing anything more verbose.

"I listen." She responded with a small grin. He felt her eyes watching him, watching for approval.

"I honestly can't believe you found this."

She shrugged nonchalantly but Jack knew the lengths that she must have gone to. He hadn't felt like this since Charlie had presented him one birthday with a clay model version of the pair of them, painted and decorated so minutely that Jack couldn't believe the detail his son had accomplished. "Just needed a little investigation, that's all." There was an self-conscious smile present on her lips.

She seemed almost embarrassed and Jack's heart leapt with a sudden burst of love for this woman sitting in front of him, cross legged under some ridiculous Christmas-themed blanket that he had thought it wise to purchase, with her tousled blonde hair just touching her shoulders when she moved and her sparkling blue eyes watching; always watching. It was _he_, Jack O'Neill (retired General and all-round pain in the ass) that got to share his life with _her_; he got the good, the bad and everything in-between.

"Marry me."

Sam's eyes widened instantly in surprise. (And was that her mouth agape, or was he imagining that?) "What?" She managed eventually, her voice husky with an edge of disbelief.

"Marry me." He repeated again, confidence surging in his voice, "We don't have to get married next year. Or even the year after that." He paused, "But I want you to marry me."

She had a certain look on her face that Jack knew meant that she was less than convinced. She looked in his eyes, almost trying to ascertain where his proposal emanated from and why. Eventually, she spoke, "Jack, you know I love you..." She gripped his hand tightly in reassurance in case he thought anything else, "But we've been together for less than a year. Less than eight months."

"And?"

"And, you don't really know me..."She spoke quietly and before Jack could interject, "Yes, I know you know me as a friend but as a girlfriend-slash-partner-slash-future-wife, you don't."

"I know that you hate anchovies." Jack replied and Sam narrowed her eyes with suspicion, clearly wondering where he was heading, "I know that you like evenings better than mornings and to fall asleep you recite the principles of physics to yourself. You hate films with a sad ending. Or starring Gerard Butler. Your favourite childhood book was Matilda. You like cats better than dogs. Your first car was a blue pick up that your dad bought but you hated. You think that sushi is overrated and that I should definitely not take you to anywhere too hot for our honeymoon because you burn easily." He smiled with self satisfaction. "I can go on but I think you get my point."

Sam shook her head, "Fine, you know me. But living with someone, _marrying_ someone is committing the rest of our lives to each other."

"I'm aware of the concept of marriage."

"Smartass," She thwacked his chest lightly, "I'm talking about all the annoying little things that I do. You have to put up with those for The. Rest. Of. Your. Life." She emphasised each words, trying to impart it with gravitas.

"I love you. I love you because of all the weird-Carter-type-neurotic-things that you do." Jack's eyes flickered to his lap, "I guess I just want you to know that this is for real."

"I do." Sam moved closer and Jack's arm slipped around her shoulder once more. She laid her head on his chest and their joined hands rested in his lap, "I don't think it is anything other than real."

"But...?"

Sam exhaled with a slight groan, almost imperceptibly, "I'm not the easiest person in the world. I work too much for far too long. I'm fussy about tidiness..." _("You're so anally retentive!" "Shut up Cass.")_ "...I'm used to being on my own." She paused for a moment, "I just don't want you to leap into this thinking I'm someone that I'm not."

Jack stroked her arm softly and Sam could feel his chest rumble with a exasperated sigh as she laid her head on him, "I'm not the easiest person in the world either y'know." He could almost see Sam's grin without being able to see her face, "I can be loud and annoying. I know that. But we're both _human_. But I know that I would experience a thousand of your less-than-easy traits for just one of your amazing ones." He sighed again, "Sam, I love you more than pretty much anything else in the world. I finally feel alive again after years of feeling like...like I was dead. It's all because of you."

She moved her head from his chest suddenly, lifting it to look directly into his eyes. "Yes."

It was obviously his turn to be surprised as he responded, "What?"

"Yes, Jack." She grinned at him, her eyes brighter than he'd seen for a long time. Maybe ever. "Yes, I will marry you."

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against his, a tender kiss as her stomach seemed to turn into knots. Butterfly-filled knots. She. Was. Getting. Married. She hadn't felt like this _before_. Ever. And certainly not with Pete. This felt right, like everything in the world had culminated to this one point where she knew that she would be honestly, truly happy. They separated, their foreheads leant together and Jack's hands weaved their way around her waist. Her eyes were closed, almost trying to suppress the tears that felt close to falling. Happy tears, she reminded her self so that was okay. Really, really happy tears.

"This is probably the best Christmas ever." He announced after a moment of silence.

"Hasn't finished yet..." She slid off the sofa with an impish grin, discarded the blanket and took his hand, leading him towards the staircase.

"Hell yeah."

**End of Part Four**


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